The Ugly Bones
by iccypenguin
Summary: Beauty is only skin deep, but ugly goes right to the bone.
1. Chapter 1

_We were assigned a moral for WL and one of our assignments was to make up our own Canterbury Tale. Thanks a lot Chaucer for coming up with this unit in the first place. I can't finish anything even if you held me at gunpoint. But to my surprise, not only was I able to create a story from the top of my mind with no planning, I was also able to finish it. And also kind of semi like it. At least enough to share it with you._

* * *

Part I

Shadows in Gold

Dashing and slipping through numerous tree trunks, a young chipmunk raced through the field of forests. She jumped from branch to branch, not even pausing to wait for the swaying leaves to stop swinging at cautious angles. Her small beating heart raced with the adrenaline pounding through her veins. She abruptly screeched to a halt when she spotted white and gray that contrasted oddly against the blur of lush green leaves and brown bark.

Her round roasted-almond eyes met with luminous yellow ones and immediately, the message was passed. Before long, a low howl echoed through the woods, overwhelming the usual chatter of other creatures that occupied the vast land. A hushed note of silence suffocated the crisp sun-dipped air as all animals big and small shuffled and scurried to form a wide ring around the chipmunk.

"What is it?" asked a member from among the circle.

"Don't tell me they're burning the forest again!" shouted a frightened rabbit.

A few gasps from fellow skunks could be heard.

"Oh god, what is that _smell_?" exclaimed one of the nearby bears.

A baby skunk just born last September blushed as the humungous bear glanced suspiciously at him.

The mother responded defensively, "oh, as if _you_ don't do that when you're scared."

"At least have some tomatoes handy the next time you-"

An annoying tapping of acorn against tree bark scattered the cloud of conversation and the chipmunk stepped forward for an announcement. All eyes stared at her with a mixture of fear and curiosity. She cleared her throat, "it's been informed from a fellow woodpecker that a nearby circus let lose some…exotic animals near the border of the forest."

Another wave of hushed voices flooded the air as the chipmunk tapped against the tree once more, "now, now. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about."

"How would you know?" shouted someone from the crowd, "did you see the beasts?"

"What do you mean exotic?"

"How many are there?"

"Why did they let them lose in the first place?!"

A large gray wolf growled, his neon yellow eyes contrasting oddly against his gray fur, "let her talk."

The chipmunk jumped at the chance, "there's been a minor accident with the humans and their traveling machines. It was said that a circus was heading to a nearby town when one of their transportation tipped over and released a few beasts. The woodpecker reported the sight of one of the animals being set free and it hit for the trees right when it got the chance. She didn't get a clear look at it because 'it disappeared like flowers in flames', as she had described in her own words. She knew that it had a long flexible tail and ears like a fox. Something like those feline pets that humans seems so fond of. Does anyone have any idea what it could be?"

"Feline pet…a cat?" offered the raccoon. He has the most knowledge about humans due to the constant time that he spends near their garbage.

"Sure, if that's what they call it."

"They're feisty things," commented a monarch butterfly resting on the trees, "they're always trying to catch us with their little claws."

The raccoon ignored him, "Does it have…spots?"

"I think so. Kind of strange isn't it?"

The raccoon frowned, "I think I know what it is."

All eyes gazed at him with intensified impatience. "Well?" shouted the mother skunk.

"It's what the humans would call a cheetah."

"That doesn't really explain much," commented the bear.

"It's a type of feline. A cat. But it's much bigger than the ones that the humans keep."

The owl leaned forward, "how do you know it's not some other species?"

"Because cheetahs are fast. Real fast. And they have spots all over their bodies."

"How do you know all this?" growled the wolf, suspicion dripping through his sharp words.

The raccoon turned toward the gray wolf, his black and gray mask of fur molding into an indescribable expression. "Read it in a book called National Geographic. Or something of the sort."

The wolf stared at him wordlessly, his expression just as illegible.

"Spots?" a few murmured amongst themselves.

The raccoon bobbed his head up and down, "it's what they're known for. I read in somewhere that they're the fastest animal on earth."

"I heard," said the chipmunk with a nut on each cheek, "that its fur can outshine the sun."

Fellow creatures murmured to their neighboring friends in hushed tones. Some were in awe while some were simply skeptical.

"Does it have feathers?" questioned the skunk mother's son.

"It's a cat, not a bird," chirped a hummingbird in a somewhat offensive tone.

"But if it does," reply the chipmunk, "I wouldn't be surprised if it's the color of rainbows." The wolf made out a scoff-like sound from the hummingbird fluttering next to his ear. If they weren't the only ones showing the same dislike about the cheetah, he would have snapped his teeth at her.

"Does it have a pot of gold underneath?" he smirked.

The chipmunk looked at him with naïve curiosity. "No," she replied, "Why would it?"

He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. _Maybe we can pour the gold around the area and distract the humans from burning down our homes_, he thought to himself. Instead, he stepped forward, breaking apart from the circle, "I don't care if this thing has feathers like rainbows or spots like some kind of infected mushroom. What I care about is how much it's going to interfere with our lives." He looked at the raccoon expectantly.

"I don't know much about them; just that they like to hunt. Like you and your-" the raccoon stopped himself just in time. The wolf's piercing eyes glared at him, as if daring him to finish. He suppressed the urge to gulp in fear. "Like your species," he tried but the effort was futile. Everyone knew he was about to say 'pack'.

"Hunt?" he pressed, ignoring the sudden tension in the air.

"Yes. Things that looks like deer."

He visibly frowned at the news. "We'll deal with it when we need to," he decided after a few moments of silence. "If it crosses our territory than we'll call for another meeting." He turned around to depart, clearly dismissing the subject. He paused, one front paw lifted in mid-stride. "Before then," he added as an after thought, "I suggest everyone use their eyes and ears for what they're worth."

The others fell in silence, each pondering on his warning as his words echoed with the same caution as their fear. It wasn't before long that he disappeared beyond the woods, his fur swaying with the slightest breeze, blending so perfectly with the shadows as if he'd never been there at all.


	2. Chapter 2

Part II

Path Less Travled By

For the past few days, the mysterious cheetah was the topic throughout everyone's conversation. Some said it was a beast with long thin claws perfect for slicing up the flesh of any unsuspecting creature. Others whispered about its beauty through over exaggerated words. It didn't take long for all kinds of tales to pass by the ears of other woodland creatures.

The wolf in particular finds this both annoying and foolish. It was annoying because it was all that he hears about, and with his canine hearing, he's been hearing a lot about it. It was foolish to him because he finds it stupid that such a small thing can exasperate him so much. A part of his irritation was in amusement. He simply doesn't understand why everyone was so worked up about such news. _It wasn't the first time that they've all been in danger,_ he thought bitterly. His ears twitched slightly in the oddly still air as his memories recalled the sounds of gunshots. He gritted his teeth, trying hard to scatter his overwhelming thoughts.

_Hunt_, he commanded himself. He rose on all fours and sniffed the air, letting the sense of smell fill his mind. Without hesitation, he sprinted toward the direction of his prey. He dodged several trees in his excitement from the hunt. He doubled back several times, taking longer than usual. If he had been hunting with his family, he would have gotten the prey long ago.

His wet nose nearly touched the rich soil, sniffing out the scent of a deer. _Old_, he thought to himself. _Old but not injured_, he concluded. _That might be a problem._ He frowned, once again feeling a painful longing for his family.

Perhaps he had underestimated himself or overestimated the deer, but either way, he caught his lunch from a nearby field of clovers. He was almost done when he heard the padding of paws. He jerked forward, his muscles coiling tightly in tension. He scanned the area, ready for the flight-or-fight reaction that he has grown accustomed to these days.

Right when he turned around he heard it again, and this time, he was close enough to feel an abnormal breeze brush against him. He jumped back and squared his shoulders, making himself look bigger to his attacker.

But he saw nothing.

He knew something was wrong. Terribly wrong._ Could it be humans? No, humans can't travel that fast. _Something clicked in his mind_. Fast. Speed. Cheetah_. And that's when he spotted it. Up high, on a nearby oak tree rest the feline. _With __my__ prey_, he growled.

Anger overcame judgment and before he knew what he was doing, he ran head on towards the tree and leapt as high as he could. His extended claws did nothing to help him stay among the branches. He left claw marks on the tree trunk and the tree left splinters in his paws.

"That's my prey," he barked. He felt like a dog barking up a tree.

"And that's my tree," she replied. Her tail flickered as she licked her paws.

_They were right, it __does__ have spots_. And they were odd to him. He had never seen anything like her before. Her fur was a shimmering caramel, like the setting sun still blazing beyond the horizon. Her spots varied; some were oval while others were perfect circles. They created a mesmerizing optical illusion, the black against gold contrasting oddly against each other.

"Nothing in here is yours," he growled, ignoring his curiosity and fear. "Get your own dinner."

"Where?" she looked at him, her pupils the same color as her fur.

He couldn't tell if she was being sarcastic or not. In fact, he couldn't tell if she was anything at all. It isn't like he's familiar with what emotions cats are capable of.

"Tell me, where can I get dinner?" she asked again.

"Where you got your brain," he spat at her.

"I don't understand. Is that a place? Do they serve antelope? I prefer Grade A steak."

"What are you rambling about?" he asked despite himself.

"Don't you have humans serve you food?"

He laughed bitterly, his fur shaking with his body as he said, "humans? Serve us?"

She frowned, or at least he thinks she frowned. "I don't understand," she repeated once more, "where I came from, they give us food."

"And where did you come from?"

"Home."

He heard from the others that she came from something called a circus. He had been hoping she'd clarify the fact but apparently, she's not capable of clarifying anything.

"Don't you live in cages?" He remembered the raccoon mentioning something of the sort.

She nodded and he shuttered. _A life in a cage is no life at all._

"But of course," her tone took up pride, "I got the biggest cage. My place is even bigger than the _lion's_." She gave off a laugh, "He got _so_ angry when he saw the difference. He blamed me for it but I personally think it's _his_ fault for not being born with beauty." He tail flickered again, causing the spots to flicker with it. "You know," she began licking her paws once more, "not _everyone_ is born with it."

She gave him a sideway glance. He knew what she must have been starring at and he fought the nagging itch that traveled from his left eye to the far corner of his mouth. "You weren't born with _that_, were you?" Something about the way she said those words made him loath her even more.

He suddenly wanted her to feel horrible about herself. He wanted her to feel what it's like to be humiliated and self-conscious. Anger flared once more but this time, he didn't act on his feelings. He acted on something that she doesn't have; intelligence.

"Who ever said you were beautiful?" he smirked.

She seemed to be shocked by the question, "humans." Then she added as an after thought, "obviously."

"But those are just humans. They're opinion only goes so far among their own kind."

"The elephants. And horses. All the animals at home."

He chuckled to himself.

"What's so funny?"

"It's just that, you've grown up with them haven't you? Of course they wouldn't call you ugly or criticize you. Or maybe they're jealous but just won't show it because the humans seem to adore you. Either way, your 'home' doesn't count as much."

She visibly frowned, "don't you think I'm beautiful?"

He didn't bother to answer, knowing full well she wouldn't be satisfied with what he would give her, "does my opinion matter? I, alone, am no different than the creatures from your home. But I _do_ know whose opinion matters more than any other being in the world."

She leaned forward, her head dipping low beyond the branches but far away enough from him to discourage any attempt of harm, "whose?" She cocked her head from side to side, filled with blind curiosity.

_Well, you know what they say_, he smirked to himself, _curiosity killed the cat._

"The gods, obviously," he rolled his eyes for exaggeration.

She frowned again in mystification, "the gods?"

"Yes. They're the ones ruling the universe, so why wouldn't they have the power to declare who to be the fairest of them all?"

She nodded to herself, deep in thought. "Tell me," she said after a few thoughtful moments, "where can you find the gods?"

He shook his head, his shaggy gray fur swaying at the movement, "you can't _find_ the gods. They're far too busy with ordering the world to meet up with someone who has a question. In order to leave judgment and to state their opinions among things, they left us a little gift."

She nodded, this time in enthusiasm, "I like gifts."

He turned slowly, his back almost to hers, "I don't know. I think I'm too hungry to show you where it is."

"Then tell me where," he heard her shout but he started to trot away from the tree.

"You don't know you're way around. I don't want you to get lost and have it be blamed on me," he shouted.

"Where do you think you're going?" she yelled back from above.

"To hunt. I'm hungry."

"You can have your prey back!" He paused and turned, meeting her gaze. Having caught his interest, she continued, "_Only_ if you show me where it is."

"The only question is," he lured, "are you willing to follow me there?"


	3. Chapter 3

Part III

The Spell of the Gods

"Are we there yet?" she wined, "my paws hurt already."

He suppressed his rising temper while trying to summon as much patience as he could but he knows just how little tolerance he has, and lately, it's been running thinner and thinner by the second.

They had started the trip with a sprint, something he did purposely to see how fast she could run. Within the last few seconds, she was ahead of him by a few meters. Looking at her run, he had to try hard to fight the urge to tackle her.

"We're almost there." And just as his words reached her ears, the sound of a trickling stream filled the air. The clutter of trees parted into a clearing of grass and other wild flowers bobbing in the gentle breeze of spring.

"This is it," he said.

"A lake?" her voice dripped with disgust, "as in water? Don't tell me the gods live in _water_."

Once again, she had failed to redeem his opinion of her intelligence. "_This_," he gestured towards the scene, "isn't _just_ a lake. It's a _magical_ lake."

"How so? It surely doesn't _look_ magical."

_Looks can be deceiving_, he said to himself. "Long ago," he began, "there was a man named Narcissus. A maiden known as Echo fell in love with him but he was too vain and declared that she is not good enough for him. Over the years, he kept on swatting off love-sick maidens until the gods grew tired of his nonsense. One of the gods cursed him to find a nearby lake. As planned, when he went for a drink, he spotted his reflection. He was surprised and wanted to know who the beautiful person was that stared back at him. When he reached out to feel the smoothness of skin, his hands met only water."

"So he fell in love with himself?" questioned the cheetah.

He nodded, clearly annoyed by her interruption, "for days he couldn't leave his reflection, knowing once he leaves the lake, it will no longer be there for him to marvel at. He slowly began to die with the lack of food and water. Soon, he was too weak to continue such a meaningless life when he can't even touch the one that he loves. Time passed and as the spring flowers sprouted from the dead winter, he died."

"What does this have to do with the lake?"

"You'll see, if only you'll wait," he growled before continuing, "when humans from a nearby town spotted his lifeless body, they blamed the gods. 'No man should have died such a shameful and pitiful death,' they shouted towards the heavens. The gods realized what they did was perhaps a bit harsh, but it was necessary to teach humans that they are what they are-mortals; not perfect beings. In order to keep a fair judgment in a less ruthless way, they made the lake in which Narcissus first spotted his reflection into the Mirror of Truth."

He took a step towards the lake, indicating that his story was at a finish, "what you're looking at right now is Narcissus' Lake."

She peered at the calm collection of water with inquisitiveness.

"Go on," he insisted, "look at your reflection and the gods will tell you what your best quality is."

She took a cautious step forward. Seeing her hesitation, he walked up to the lake. "See?" he said, "There's nothing to be scared of."

With his words, she slowly stepped up to the edge of the water, keeping her paws a safe distance to keep them from getting wet. He could feel her fur bristle at being so close to such a vast body of moisture. She took a deep breath and looked into the surface of the liquid. Her eyes widened slightly.

"What do you see?" he pried.

"I see…myself. As I am now."

He frowned, faking perplexity. He stepped up next to her, and glanced at her reflection, "you're right. That's strange." It took some effort for him to hide his snickering.

Suddenly her expression changed from puzzlement to shock, "you're glowing."

He was about to ask her what she was talking about when he spotted his own reflection. He _was_ glowing.

"That's strange…" he murmured more to the cheetah than to himself for he had planned all this.

"Why aren't _I_ glowing?" she cried out in despair. "I should be glowing more than you. My glow should shine like the sun compared to your petty little twinkle of light." Her expression turned fierce, anger and jealousy vibrating from her very essence. "The lake is wrong," she accused the water, "Narcissus is wrong. The _gods_ are wrong."

Before he could come up with a snide comment, she paced away from the lake and once she was far enough she ran full speed ahead towards the body of water. She took a great leap, using all her leg muscles and flew over the wolf and into the water.

Despite what her instincts were telling her, she submerged herself to reach the bottom of the lake. She kept on swimming and swimming endlessly. It was as if the lake had no bottom at all. She quickly resurfaced before her lungs could burst. She broke through the horrible soaking liquid, her breath coming out in short bursts as she gulped down the spring air. She paddled quickly, eager to reach land.

She shook her self, shaking droplets of cold moisture everywhere. Irritation replaced her anger. "There _has_ to be some logical explanation," she paced around. She felt like screaming in frustration.

She whipped her head around and narrowed her eyes at the wolf, staring at his dirt matted fur so poorly kept and lacking in care compared to her glossy coat. "What?" she snapped when his wide yellow eyes stared back at her.

"Your…you…" he stumbled on his words.

"My what?" she pressed, fear slowly creeping through the chill that ran down her spine.

"Your fur."

Thinking the wolf is wasting her time, she began, "what do you mean-." She halted, the breath knocked out of her. Her eyes met with a glossed skin. It was still her fur, she reasoned. But yet, it wasn't. Because how can her fur be so…empty? Plain? How can it be a simple yellow? Where had her spots-her beautiful, gorgeous spots-gone?

She shrieked, slicing the air into a million pieces with her terror, "_what did you do?_"

The wolf didn't answer, simply because he didn't have one. Yes, when he was a pup he heard the story of Narcissus but he had never, in his right mind, thought it was true. Every time he went to drink from the lake it gave the same thing as always-just plain water and nothing more.

Suddenly a blur lunged at him, slamming his back against the solid ground. He acted on reflex and quickly kicked his hind legs upwards, snapping at the cheetah's shoulder. She jumped back, and studied herself for another attack. However, before she knew, it the wolf had flown himself at her, using his weight as an advantage to keep her down.

"What did you do?" she hissed, spitting the words at him.

He glared at her, the shock corroding into furry. "I didn't do _anything_," his words matched her hatred, "_you_ were the one that jumped into that lake. I didn't _make_ you do anything."

"My spots! They're all gone!" she ignored what he said, her voice breaking amid her yelling as tears fought to spill down her cheeks. She quickly blinked them back and that's when she noticed it-the same glow radiating from the wolf. "You're glowing again."

"I don't glow," his acid voice sliced her ears, "I never did." To show her what he meant he moved his body slightly to the left. The blazing sun blinded her eyes. Realization crept towards her as she realized his trickery. He had purposely used the sun to make it seem as if he was shining. She would not have fallen for his dirty deception if she had looked beside him, where he could not have blocked the sun, instead of his reflection in the pond.

She bared her razor sharp teeth at her and he snapped his teeth in response. That's when she noticed it-the scarred tissue hidden underneath the roof of his jaw. Her eyes widened.

He gave her an astringent smile after noticing her expression, "oh, I see you've noticed my beauty marks. This," he opened his mouth once again to show the total damage, giving her a lucid look at the scars that crisscrossed the roof of his mouth, "is what your humans did."

"Serve us," he referred back to her past comment, "You work for them, keeping yourself in a cage all your life and you think _they're_ the ones serving you? You have no idea what they're capable of, do you? They don't _serve_ animals." He barked out a hideous laugh. "They kill them. They killed all of them. My entire pack."

He stepped back, slowly circling the feline, "I tried to stop them, you know. We all did. But there were just too many. And they had weapons. Things that we've never seen before. Things that made loud noises that deafened our ears. Every time they shoot, one of us would fall down. Dead. One by one. I was the only one left. They all tried to save me because I was the alpha. But what is an alpha without a pack to lead?

"Keep the pack safe; that was my job. And I tried. I lunged at one and he swung his knife at me. He took a scratch," he gestured to the scar that ran from his left eye to the right corner of his mouth, "and I broke his wrist for it but not before he scarred my mouth. It bleeds every time I eat." He saw her grimace. "It was excruciating at first. But after a while you get used to the pain."

He paused, lost in his own past as the agonizing memories came back in an image more authentic than reality itself. "Beauty," he scoffed, "is only skin deep. But other things-scars left behind from the past-goes right to the bone."

And with those words, he left her lying in the field of Narcissus' flowers-her own beauty lost in the spell of the gods-as he ran towards the woods, attempting to lose something of his own-his memories.


End file.
